Adachi and Shimamura Vol. 4

Tomorrow?! I won’t even have time to pray!

“Adachi?”

I wanted to be closer to Shimamura, even if only by a single step. Or a
single inch. But what if I ended up at the very front and she ended up in the
very back?

“Well, uh…hopefully they let us sit this close! Right?”

For some reason, I wanted her to give me…reassurance or validation or
something like that. But Shimamura laughed it off.

“I don’t know about that. I feel like it would cause a lot of problems.”
She was always perfectly composed; not once had I ever seen her get
flustered. “I mean, to get this close, we’d basically have to share a desk, you
know?”

This came as a small, but crushing, blow. I just couldn’t accept her
flippant tone.

But I must’ve let these feelings show on my face, because she looked at
me and continued, “Whatever happens, happens.”

This outlook was certainly in line with Shimamura’s personality, and
there was nothing wrong with it, per se. But if I let life just happen to me, I
knew I’d end up alone again. So I took a good, hard look at my fears and
motivations…and after a little introspection, the answer came to me right
away. Regardless of how the seating shuffle turned out—

“Wanna eat lunch together tomorrow?”

—all we had to do was make our own plans. It was so simple, and yet
somehow I never realized.

“Yeah, of course.”

And so Shimamura readily agreed, putting me at ease with her words…
her attitude…her kindness…

“Now stop worrying and go to sleep.”

At this, my emotions crossed the finish line. How blessed I was, to be
able to stop worrying on command. Knowing her, she probably had no idea
about my dreams or the inner workings of my heart, but—

“Adachi,” she called softly as she closed her eyes.

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—in the end, she always gave me everything I wished for.
“Sleep well.”
There was no point in resisting, so I closed my eyes, falling away from
this waking dream and sinking into another.
“Sleep well…”
Shimamura .
Silently, I whispered her name.

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Interlude:
A Visit to the Hino Estate

Part 3

N AGAFUJI WAS FLOATING in the bathwater, her limbs spread in every

direction, naked as the day she was born. Lying on her back, the highest point
on her body was her chest. You’d think it’d be her nose, like a normal person,
but no. Damn you, Nagafuji.

“Must be nice to have a huge bathtub!”

“One of the perks of being rich,” I replied absently as I shampooed my
hair.

Admittedly, the tub at Nagafuji’s house was a relic from the era in
which the house was built—which is to say, eons ago—and it was so small,
you couldn’t even stretch your legs out all the way. The two of us fit inside it
just fine when we were kids, but these days it would be impossible. Mostly
because of Nagafuji.

“Ah , I’m so happy!”

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To express her joy, she kicked her feet in the water. The momentum
sent her sailing all the way to the side of the tub, where she hit her head and
sank like a rock. She was acting like a kid at a ryokan, and I was terrified she
was going to try to make this a regular occurrence.

After our bath, we sat on the edge of the porch to cool down. That said,
I couldn’t exactly “cool down” with Nagafuji pressed right up against me…
and yet I couldn’t bring myself to scoot away, either.

“Ooh, look at the sky,” Nagafuji murmured, slack-jawed. It was the
first words she’d spoken since we got out of the tub. “I like windy days. It’s
easier to see the stars.”

“Huh? Oh…yeah, I guess…”

If I had to guess, it was probably the swift movement of the clouds that
kept things interesting. Not that Nagafuji was thinking that deeply, of course.
She accepted everything in the world at surface value without reading into it,
for better or for worse.

“Plus, you guys have a huge yard, so there’s lots of greenery to look at.
I love this place.”

Yet again, she complimented my house. Me personally, though, I was
inclined to disagree. If she actually came here often enough for the novelty to
wear off, she’d realize just how exhausting it was to live here.

“Nah. I wish my house was as small as yours.” That way it wouldn’t
take so long to get from room to room.

“Wow. You’re so greedy.”

“Excuse me? If anything, I’m the opposite of greedy! I’m saying I want
less !”

“Oh. Good point,” she shrugged casually, kicking her feet back and
forth as they dangled from the porch. “Wanna trade?”

“Ooh. Now there’s an idea.”

If it was that easy, I’d do it in a heartbeat. And I’d bring all my brothers
and maids with me, too. How would a guy like Goushirou handle living at
Nagafuji’s place? When I tried to picture it, I nearly burst out laughing.
Knowing him, he’d probably get a ruler and measure the space between each
product on display to make sure it was just so . Who knows—maybe he’d

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actually make a good butcher.

Just then, Nagafuji leaned her body up against me.

“Are…are you bored of looking at the sky or something?”

Then she took my hand…and brought it…toward her chest …?!

Silently, my palm pressed against her. Flustered, I stared in shock. She
laughed. “I figured I’d let you touch them every now and then, since you like
them so much.”

“Wh-what?! Now look here, you…!”

“See, aren’t I nice? Just don’t squeeze, okay?”

Why would I?! I blushed all the way to my ears as I sat there, perfectly
still, with my hand against Nagafuji’s breast. I couldn’t feel much of
anything, save for her fingers wrapped around my wrist.

“Having fun?”

“It’s really warm.” Not just her, but my face, too. What are we doing
right now? I couldn’t even look at her. “Alright, that’s enough. Thanks.”

Unable to bear it a moment longer, I pulled my hand away. But just
then—

“Whoa!”

—Nagafuji grabbed my head and drew it close. Caught off-guard, I
collapsed against her chest. Her post-bath warmth made me start sweating all
over again.

“Man, what is up with you tonight?”

“You’re just so cute, Hino!”

She stroked the bath towel between her hand and my hair, almost like I
was her beloved pet or something. She was so forward with her
compliments… That was what flustered me more than anything. As she
ruffled my towel, it felt like I was seeing the real her.

In elementary school, our teachers treated her like a clueless ditz, but
when it came down to it, she was just really, really open and honest.
Considering she accepted everything at face value, she probably took this
stance with her own feelings, too…and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out

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how to counter it. Me, I could never be that open about myself. The most I
could do was mask my embarrassment with sarcasm.

“You sure like me a whole bunch, huh?”

“Yup!”
…At least blush about it a little, would you?

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~Today’s Adachi Forecast~

When I saw the pure, innocent smile on Shimamura’s face, I realized:
Oh, this is a dream. Which means I can get away with asking for just about
anything, right? Right?

With this decided, I spread my arms out wide. “Sh-Shimamura! I want
a piggyback ride! And headpats! And a big hug! And—”

“Give me a break!”

She smiled awkwardly, and I thought to myself: Oh god, what if this
isn’t a dream after all? But right as I started to freak out, the next thing I
knew, I was looking at a darkened ceiling. My heart was pounding a mile a
minute. I clutched at my chest.

Brain, please, just let me sleep.

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Chapter 6:
Love and Sakura

A S I LAY THERE with my eyes closed, I contemplated how much

longer I should pretend to be asleep. I could feel the warm morning sun
against my back, but in place of chirping birds, I could only hear Adachi’s
faint whispers as she prayed:

“Please put me near Shimamura. Please put me near Shimamura.”

She sounded so scared and desperate, I wasn’t really sure how to react.
As you can imagine, I couldn’t exactly spring upright like all was well.

Had she prayed that we’d end up in the same class, too? I thought back
to the look on her face that day as she leapt for joy. It must have been one of
few times that she actually got what she asked for.

I felt her roll over, and then she put her left hand on my almost-
completely-numbed right hand. Her fingers slid between mine. It was
springtime, and yet her skin was cool to the touch. As we lay there, however,
the chill faded away, defeated by my warmth. For some reason, I found I was
kind of disappointed to see it go.

I twitched my arm, pretending like I was stirring awake. Instantly, she
let go and stopped praying, and I felt her head turn. Then I slowly opened my
eyes to find her looking back at me, her lips pursed tightly. Apparently she
was afraid of me catching her in the act; her cheeks were as pink as her
namesake.

It felt like her face was closer now than it was when we went to bed
last night. Her head was cradled in the crook of my elbow, and if either of us
had rolled over in our sleep, we would’ve knocked our foreheads together.
Yikes . Good thing we were both solid sleepers.

“Good morning.”

“G-good…morning…” Adachi stammered, her whole head trembling.

Her eyes were wide open and looked a bit dry, like she’d been up for a
while. No surprise there, honestly, given we’d turned in at 8 PM. If anything,
I probably overslept. And yet somehow I was still sleepy. A small yawn

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slipped out.

“What happened yesterday?”

Her sudden question confused me. “What?”

“I mean, last night. Did anything…you know…happen?” she asked
cryptically. As I stared back in confusion, her face flushed beet-red, all the
way to her ears.

“Last night? I’m…kinda not sure what you’re talking about. I was
asleep…?”

Weren’t you literally right there on my arm? Are you feeling okay? Or
did something happen without me knowing? Did you doodle on my face or
something? Note to self: look in a mirror.

It felt like a question you’d hear in a horror movie, but Adachi’s
reaction was anything but scared. “Alright then. Okay,” she replied, looking
sincerely relieved. Then she curled up, closed her damp eyes, and relaxed
against my arm like she was thinking about going back to sleep. “Just a
dream. Thank god,” I was pretty sure I heard her say.

At that point, I couldn’t bring myself to shake her awake and ask more
questions, so instead I just fell silent. There was a long pause. But unlike on
the phone, it wasn’t the sort of bottomless abyss that left me feeling trapped.
For some reason, the weight against me and the numbness in my arm instilled
in me a strange sense of peace. I yawned again, and my fingers twitched.

Did Hino and Nagafuji cuddle in the same bed, too? I had a vague
understanding of their friendship, and yet my own was a mystery.

I turned my head as far as I could manage to look at the clock. It was
time to get up and start getting ready for school. Any later and my mom was
bound to come knocking. But I couldn’t get up unless Adachi got up, and
Adachi showed no signs of stirring. Her eyes were still closed.

I moved my arm ever so slightly; her cheeks flushed, and she balled her
hand into a fist. Because her complexion was so pale, the most minute color
changes were readily obvious. Maybe a tan would help… Summer wasn’t
that far off, thankfully.

But if we were going to make it to summer, then my first step would be
to wake her. I felt guilty, since it was pretty clear she hadn’t gotten much

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sleep, but my only option was to be her alarm clock.
I wiggled my arm vigorously. Adachi shook her head, as if in protest,

and clung to my pajamas.
What part of this looks like a “competent student” to you, Mom? God,

she’s such a needy little baby.
But all I could do was smile and shake my head.

***

“Hold it, little girl.”
Right as we were putting our shoes on in the entryway, my mother
flagged me down. That’s one way to address your own daughter, I guess.
“Take this with you.” She handed me a rectangular parcel, then did the
same with Adachi. “You, too, Adachi-chan.”
I looked down at it and felts its weight. “What are these?”
“Take a guess.”
“You’re…going to make me lunches again?”
“Bingo.”
She shot me a thumbs-up. I stared back in surprise. “Where did this
come from?”
“Well…” She started to explain, but seemingly decided it was too
much work. “Eh, forget it. Just get going already or you’ll be late.” Then she
shooed us out of the house.
What had changed her mind? I looked at Adachi.
She was staring down at her bento box, slack-jawed.
And so we set off on our merry (read: miserable) way to school. As I
rode on the back of Adachi’s bike, it occurred to me:
“Is this our first time going to school together?”
We’d definitely ridden home together in the past, but this was a first.
Despite the fact that she was steering, Adachi looked up at me. “I think

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so,” she muttered. Then she continued to gaze up at me, so I took it upon
myself to watch the road.

Flecks of sunlight scattered through the trees. The stains on the
buildings. The flow of vehicles and pedestrians. Long white clouds, streaking
across the sky like the sleeves of a blouse. The biting heat of the sunshine
against my darkened hair, its warmth somewhere between spring and
summer.

Everywhere I looked, it was May.

We passed through the residential district until we reached the road that
would lead us to our high school. Under the bright rays of the sun, both
beauty and ugliness stood out in sharp relief.

Once Sunday was over, naturally, we were expected to go back to
school. And since we were both going to the same place, it made sense for
both of us to take Adachi’s bike. Her bike was then further weighed down
with all of the bags she’d brought for the sleepover, and yet she pedaled as
though it was no trouble at all. What a hard little worker, I thought to myself
half-jokingly. This was not an opinion I often held of her.

“Okay, you need to start paying attention now.”

I gave the back of her head a little push. Frowning reluctantly, she
tilted her head back down. But right as I moved to pull my hand away, I
noticed the faint outlines of a flower pattern embedded in my skin—a vestige
of Adachi’s weight pressing my arm against the pillow. Was there more
hidden under my sleeve? I rubbed my arm through my uniform.

Resting a hand on Adachi’s shoulder, I observed her for a moment. Her
tension was visible, not through her expression, but through her white-
knuckled grip on the handlebars. After all, we—or at least, she—had a big
event coming up today: the seating shuffle. No longer would we be organized
alphabetically by last name.

Did her prayers help her face reality? Was there a point to just sitting
around and thinking instead of taking action? Either way, I was looking
forward to the outcome.

***

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On the day of the entrance ceremony, the sakura blossoms had just
started to fall. Today, there was no trace of them left.

Had I ever been fully conscious of the sakura blossoms before now? I
pondered this to myself as I walked toward the school building, occasionally
looking up at the sky. Whenever spring break came to an end, my attention
would inevitably be drawn to the piles of petals covering the ground…
Perhaps I’d never actually seen a sakura tree in full bloom before.

Of course, now that I was thinking about it, I suddenly felt the desire to
correct this, but I couldn’t exactly turn back time. How many more chances
would I have to see the blossoms?

“Hmm…”

I looked from the scrap of paper in my hand to the numbers written on
the chalkboard. Apparently the seating shuffle had started at some point
while I was lost in thought. My homeroom teacher’s system was as follows:
Each of us, in alphabetical order, would reach into a bowl and draw a scrap of
paper with a number on it. Then we’d look at the chalkboard, find the
corresponding desk, and move to it.

Adachi had already finished moving desks; I could feel her gaze
lingering on my back.

Ultimately, I ended up moving one column to the left, second row from
the back. As for Adachi, she was now three desks to my right.

“Well, that didn’t change much…”

We weren’t especially close, but neither were we on opposite sides of
the room. Sure, we were in the same row, but we were still three columns
apart, so it was hard to say how successful her prayer really was.

As the seating shuffle continued noisily, I put my chin in my hand and
looked over at Adachi. Our eyes met. Her expression was as stoic as ever, but
she wasn’t staring down at her hands, so she seemed to be in decent spirits.
She looked back at me, her gaze swimming unsteadily, the same way it had
when we woke up. In other words, she was sleepy. Poor thing. Hang in there,
kiddo, I thought dryly.

Later, during class, I looked over and made eye contact with Adachi.
She held my gaze for a moment, then hastily looked away, as if she couldn’t

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take it anymore. But I kept looking at her anyway, and sure enough, she
glanced over at me again. Somehow, no matter how many heads were in our
way, we always managed to find each other.

Then she turned away and stared down at her textbook, wide-eyed,
tracing a finger over its pages. But I knew her well enough to know that she
wasn’t really reading it. The flower hairpin swayed with her unstable
movements.

Smiling, I looked over at the bright sunlight streaming in through the
windows.

It’s May, alright.

One minute it was the first day of our second year, and then I blinked,
and a whole month flew by. My high school career only had one more April
left. Then one more May, then one more June. Today would never happen
again. There was no retry button in real life. And as time sped by faster and
faster, I became painfully conscious of this fact. I couldn’t spend my whole
life taking it easy.

Perhaps the sakura blossoms were symbolic of my lost time, slowly
slipping away petal by petal.

Adachi was keenly aware that her time was limited, which was why
she spent every day in what appeared to be a constant struggle to live her life
to the fullest…or was I overestimating her?

Though she appeared to nearly nod off at several points, she never
completely fell asleep. She was putting up a valiant effort, and it made me
smile. Like the faint warmth of spring, it took the weight off my shoulders.
And now that I was able to breathe again, I realized—

Someday…I couldn’t be certain when exactly, but I knew it would
happen eventually…someday in the future, when there were no more spring
breaks to be had, and my high school friends were a distant memory…
someday I would have to spend sakura season alone. But until then, perhaps
it couldn’t hurt to enjoy the blossoms while they were around. It might even
be fun.

April was over, and the blossoms were no longer blooming…but if I
ever wanted to see Sakura, she was only three desks away.

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Afterword

A RGENTO SOMA! Buy it today on DVD!

Did you know I have a banana allergy? I’m wholly unable to eat a
whole banana. Apparently I can’t have kiwi, either—anyway, hello. Oh, and I
can’t have pineapple—anyway, hi there. It would appear that these tropical
fruits hate my guts. Farewell, Tahiti. Not that I’ve ever been.

So, that was Volume 4 of Adachi and Shimamura . Kind of wild that
it’s lasted this long, huh? My main problem with writing a long series is that I
never know what to do with repeat holidays. It feels kind of silly to do
Valentine’s and Christmas stories all over again. How do they handle this in
manga? These are the kinds of things I thought about while I wrote this
volume. Thank you for buying my book.

For some reason my fingers always smell like chlorine. This is a
thought I just had while sniffing my hand.

Another thing: Recently I’ve been thinking…I don’t trust anyone who
says they control how much effort they put in based on the job. Like, I don’t
care what kind of work it is—if you’re getting paid to do it, then give it
everything you’ve got and don’t slack off. That kind of thing. That’s what I’d
like to see in an ideal world. That said, I don’t know how you’d “slack off”
writing a novel, anyway.

At the current time of writing, I’ve been playing Kenka Bancho 6 . And
each year, as I struggle to remember enough math to pass my finals, I can tell
I’m getting old. Oh, and I played Ukiyo no Shishi and Ukiyo no Roushi .
Samurai swordfighting games are a rare and valuable commodity, and I
enjoyed my time with them. I just wish they’d give me the option to use the
same katana stance and sheath animations that the NPCs get.

That reminds me—at an autograph session in 2014, one particular fan
was passionately trying to convince me to send the girls to the hot springs.
But is going to the hot springs something that teenage girls would
realistically do for fun? Granted, I’ve read a manga where some junior high
students went, but high school…?

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Thank you to my editors: M, A, and O. I couldn’t have published this
book on my own, and your assistance was invaluable, so I’m extremely
grateful. Oh, and thank you to Non-san for the illustrations.

See, I was always a good kid, and when you asked me who I respected
most of all, I would always write “my parents”—until junior high, at least.
But when I see my father eating veggies and taking medicine at the same
time, it gives me pause.

Not sure if there will be more volumes in the future, but if so, I hope
you’ll continue to show your support.

—Hitoma Iruma

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